No, she had no choice but to remain untouched for the rest of her life. It did not matter that she wanted a baby of her own. She had to content herself with her nieces and nephews. Why, then, was the thought so bleak?
‘Well?’ he prompted. His thumb stroked the centre of her palm, and her body yearned for more. She imagined him caressing her in other places, and it sent a flare of need between her legs.
Stop this, she warned herself and straightened. ‘I don’t have to tell you what I want. Only that it has nothing to do with you.’
‘You don’t like me.’ From the way he said it, it seemed almost like a challenge. And he was wrong—she liked what she saw very much. He unnerved her in a way no man ever had.
But she kept her tone calm and said, ‘I like you well enough. But that doesn’t mean we need to make a bargain between us. I will speak to my brothers, but the choice is theirs as to whether our men will fight for you.’
He studied her a moment and told her, ‘Your brothers wanted me to barter marriage in exchange for their army.’
She wanted to curse at their meddling. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘That will never happen.’
The prince was silent for a moment, and the only sound in the chamber was the dripping of water. ‘Good. Then we are in agreement.’
His blunt statement should have reassured her, but she had not expected his refusal. Instead, she waited for him to elaborate. ‘I cannot be wedded right now,’ he continued. ‘My first concern must be for my people.’
Joan understood that. He had been forced into a desperate position, one where lives were at stake. And she offered her own sympathy. ‘You are right to fear for them, and I hope you can save them. I will do what I can to convince Warrick and Rhys. But they don’t want to accept that marriage is the last thing I want.’
‘Especially to a man like me.’ There was a mocking note in the midst of his deprecating remark.
Joan softened her voice. ‘If I ever intended to marry, I would consider you—or at least, a man like you. But as I said before, I cannot wed anyone.’
Ronan released her hand, his gaze penetrating. She was acutely aware of him and the heat of his skin. It took an effort not to rest her hands upon his hewn chest, sliding her fingers over the ridge of thick muscle.
‘Your brother told me that your intended husband died,’ he said. ‘I am sorry for it.’
It happens too often, she wanted to say but didn’t. Instead, she answered, ‘I had never seen him before. I didn’t know anything about Murdoch.’
‘What will you do now?’
She shrugged. ‘I may enter a convent. Or perhaps I will return to my father’s house and look after him, now that he is a widower.’ She glanced down at him, still distracted that he wore only a drying cloth. ‘I should go and let you get dressed.’
‘Not yet.’ His demeanour shifted, and he took on a commanding tone. In that moment, he was a prince in every sense of the word. ‘I need an army to help take back my kingdom. The MacEgans will help, and possibly your brothers’ men. But once they leave, my father’s stepson will only drive our supporters out again.’
Her brow furrowed, for she didn’t quite understand what he wanted from her.
Then he continued, ‘I need men who will dwell among us until I know who is loyal.’
‘Why not ask the King of Tornall?’ Joan suggested. ‘Surely he would send men to help you.’
‘As I said before, I have no formal alliance with them—only an understanding. But if I ask him to send soldiers...’
‘He would want you to marry his daughter,’ she finished.
‘Yes. And I have met Siobhan. She is not as reasonable as you are.’
At that, she almost smiled. Reasonable was not a word most men used when describing her. ‘You think I’m reasonable because I don’t want to marry?’
‘Yes.’ He took a step closer. ‘And you may know how I can convince your brothers’ men to stay longer.’
Her gaze shifted towards his bare skin, distracting her again. ‘They would stay for a time if you paid them. But how long do you think they are needed?’
‘Half a year, at least. Perhaps longer.’
She was beginning to understand why her brothers were suggesting a betrothal. Such a length of time would be difficult, not to mention costly.
But Ronan raised his green eyes to hers and asked, ‘Do you think you can help me persuade your brothers?’ His voice was deeply resonant, like an invisible caress. Her wayward imagination conjured up the vision of his hands around her waist, pulling her near. She felt herself yielding, wanting something she could not name.
‘I—I don’t know. I could try.’ And with that, she fled, no longer trusting herself around this man.
Copyright © 2018 by Michelle Willingham
ISBN-13: 9781488086861
Awakened by the Prince’s Passion
Copyright © 2018 by Nikki Poppen
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